


Makin' Babies

by seductivembrace



Series: Makin' Babies [1]
Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-14
Updated: 2012-08-14
Packaged: 2017-11-12 03:11:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/486022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seductivembrace/pseuds/seductivembrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set somewhere during A:tS season 5.  The sacrifices Angel makes to keep Los Angeles safe. . .  Now if Spike can mind his own business.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Angel cast a furtive glance around before letting himself in to the hole-in-the-wall bar where he was supposed to meet his client. He’d told no one of this particular meeting, going so far as to have Harmony pencil in a vague “out of the office” on his calendar. 

Wesley and the others he trusted would take it at face value. What he was really worried about was Spike. Spike, who had taken to heart Angel’s plea to keep their renewed relationship a secret from the others by going out of his way to be the worst thorn in his side. Either out of spite or a true desire to please him, Angel didn’t quite know. 

But this latest case specifically entrusted into his care had the makings of weeks, if not _months_ , of titillating office gossip. He’d be hard pressed to show his face around Wolfram & Hart if word got out of what he was about to do. 

Sighing, and grumbling under his breath about the lengths he had to go to as CEO, Angel let himself into the bar and made his way to a darkened corner farthest from the door. A flash of fangs and a low growl had the demon currently occupying the table scurrying out of his seat with a hasty, “I’m leaving. Help yourself,” after tossing a few bills on the table to cover his tab. 

Angel grunted and slid into the far seat so his back was to the wall. The place had come to a standstill at the other demon’s abrupt departure, but a snarl and a pointed glare as his eyes scanned the few remaining occupants had them turning back to their business of drowning whatever sorrows they might have. 

A waitress came by moments later, and Angel ordered a shot of whiskey, then changed his mind to having the whole bottle brought over – he was going to need it. 

He’d just downed his first glass when the door opened, admitting a demon of indeterminate species given that it was covered from head to toe in a concealing wool cloak. Angel knew what it was, however, given the small basket it clutched nervously to its chest. He waited until the demon glanced in his direction, then motioned with a quick wave of his hand for it to come over. 

“I have brought the basket,” the demon informed him and formally placed it on the table between them before taking his seat across from Angel. What came out of the demon’s mouth was a series of clicks and whistles, and it was only the language upgrade he’d endured that enabled him to understand the Tris’lik demon. 

Angel launched into his own reply of grunts and clicks, informing the demon to return in six hour’s time to retrieve the basket and the dozen eggs he knew to be hidden within. The demon departed with a click and a nod, leaving Angel alone and staring pensively at the basket before him. 

 _‘The things I do…’_ he thought grumpily as he reached into the basket for the first egg and tucked it into his waistband next to his lukewarm skin. When he was finished, twelve eggs were nestled against various parts of his body to begin the last stage of their incubation period. He was just grateful the things wouldn’t hatch until the Tris’lik had come to collect them. Trying to explain to twelve baby Tris’lik that he wasn’t their mother probably wouldn’t go over too well. Not for him, or for anyone else in the bar. 

With nothing to do but to wait, Angel scooted to the inside corner, deeper into the shadows and quietly sipped at his drink. The first hour passed relatively quietly, as did the second. During the third, the waitress reappeared with one hand on her hip, scornfully eyeing the lone bottle barely halfway drunk; a few hundred dollar bills tossed in her direction had her leaving him alone soon enough, if somewhat peevishly. By the fifth hour, he’d wished he’d brought a book to pass the time; he was bored out of his mind, and his limbs ached from having to keep still. 

Angel glanced at his watch and breathed a sigh of relief that he only had one more hour to go. His lips quirked upward in a hint of a smile because it appeared he’d managed to thwart Spike’s probable attempts at finding him. 

Or so he thought, until thirty minutes later, the front door of the bar opened revealing a smirking Spike, whose eyes seemed to find him unerringly in the darkened room. 

“Hello, Peaches,” Spike said as he sprawled in the seat across from him. His eyes twinkled with suppressed mirth. 

 _Almost like he knew…_  

 _‘Not possible,’_ Angel thought frantically, though he tried to act normal – or normal for him – as he grunted out a response. “What do you _want_ , Spike?” 

“Just thought I’d share a pint or two with my sire.” 

There was laughter in Spike’s voice, and Angel’s eyes narrowed. 

“Uh huh.” 

“I see you’ve spared no expense.” Spike eyes the bottle then turned away briefly to catch the waitress’ eye and signal for a glass. 

Angel watched it all and couldn’t prevent the flare of jealousy as the girl smiled and rushed to do his unspoken bidding, then practically prostrated herself on the table, exposing her more than ample bosom as she set the shot glass in front of Spike. Spike, the bastard, smiled and flirted right back. At least he did until Angel let out an unintentional, possessive growl. 

 _That_ had Spike smiling wider and sighing dramatically. 

“Sorry, luv,” Spike murmured to the waitress apologetically. “Bloke’s a mite possessive over what he considers his.” 

Angel was treated to a venomous look before the girl flounced off. His own eyes narrowed on her departing back, the demon in him coming up with hundreds of ways to flay the skin from her body for daring to be so bold, and it wasn’t until he heard Spike’s jealousy remark that he turned and fixed a pointed stare at him. He was please to see Spike’s brief flinch, though it was quickly gone and Spike was once more gifting him with a bemused smile. 

“ _What_?” Angel snapped. 

Spike said nothing and poured himself a drink. 

Angel sighed and gestured for Spike to refill his own glass. He settled in to wait, knowing that he could outlast Spike in the quiet department. 

Surprisingly, Spike went ten minutes without saying a thing – a record for him – and Angel was sure he only broke his silence because Angel kept glancing at his watch and eyeing the front door… the perfect opening. 

“Who’re you waiting for, Angel?”

_Shit!_


	2. 2

Shit. 

Shit.  

 _Shit_. 

There was just nothing remotely comforting about the look Spike was giving him. Like Spike was trying to determine how he could make the most of Angel’s situation. And the more humiliating for Angel the better. 

“No one,” Angel snapped. “Look, I came here for a drink, alright? It’s been a hellacious week at the office and I just needed to unwind. _Alone_.” 

His pointed hint was ignored by Spike. Of course. 

“For the last five and a half hours?” Spike’s tone was a perfect mix of disbelieving and mocking. Something only he could pull off. 

“I was thirsty.” Great! Now he sounded like he was pouting. Truth be told, he was ready to. Another thirty minutes and he would have been home free. The Tris’lik would have come and gone and he could have put the whole embarrassing thing behind him. 

Not now, though, and he was ready to stomp his foot in frustration. 

Damn his nosy childe anyway! 

Then Spike’s look changed, his teasing smirk was replaced by flashing eyes and clenched jaw, as if he was trying to hold back whatever he wanted to say, and Angel waited for the explosion. Spike never was one to censor himself… for long, that is. 

“Have you lost your bloody mind?” Spike hissed finally, and thankfully his voice was low enough to not be overheard by the others in the bar. “Tris’lik eggs?” 

Angel barely refrained from wincing that Spike knew, though he did wonder how Spike had managed to find out. He said nothing, which was probably a good thing because Spike wasn’t done yet. 

“ _Tris’lik eggs_?” Spike said again, and there was something in his tone that wasn’t there before. 

Barely discernible, but then, if it was one thing Angel knew a lot about, it was Spike’s moods. 

Spike was scared. Terrified, actually, though he’s done a pretty good job of hiding it behind the Big Bad persona he’d perfected over the years. But there were little tells that gave him away: the slight tremor in his hand as he reached for his drink and slammed back the half-full glass in one quick swallow, the way he refused to meet Angel’s eyes. 

His righteous indignation melted away, and Angel tried to soothe Spike without being obvious. “I’m just incubating them, Spike. The Tris’lik—” 

“Can’t be trusted!” Spike snapped, peeved. His worry was once more buried beneath his anger. 

Angel could feel his own temper flaring in response to Spike’s. “Excuse me if I’d rather not have a bunch of dead bodies turn up because the Tris’lik needed a cool incubator in order to hatch their young. A few hours’ sacrifice—” 

Spike cut him off again. “ _Sacrifice_ is bloody right. You _do_ know why they choose corpses, don’t you? Please tell me you weren’t dumb enough to blindly say yes without…” His voice trailed off momentarily at Angel’s confused look. “Bloody hell. You _are_.” Muttered under his breath, “Need a bloody keeper,” before informing him, “They gut the corpses once they hatch, Angelus. First meal and all. Didn’t Percy—?” 

This time it was Angel who interrupted him. “Wes doesn’t know. Nobody does.” He didn’t bother to explain why they didn’t since it was pretty obvious. A master vampire incubating eggs like some mother hen? His staff would have laughed for days, no matter that he would have averted a crisis and perhaps a bloody war between his team and the Tris’lik. 

“What? So the Tris’lik just showed up in your office one day and presented their proposal?” 

“Not exactly,” Angel hedged. 

Spike quirked a brow. Waited. 

“Eve.” 

If Angel thought Spike was mad before, it was nothing compared to hearing the woman’s name mentioned. 

“I’ll kill her.” 

Spike was serious, and Angel was half inclined to let Spike try. But he shook his head. “No.” 

“But—” 

“You can’t kill her, Spike. She’s the liaison to the Senior Partners.” 

“Fine. I’ll just torture her then. Skills are pretty rusty. Could use the practice.” 

Angel’s lips quirked slightly. “No.” 

“Well why not?” This time, Spike really did pout. Full bottom lip jutted out, making Angel want to lean across the table and— 

“Because,” Angel stammered out, shying away from where his thoughts were headed. Now was definitively not the time to be having _those_ ideas about Spike. 

Spike wasn’t listening to him, however, arms crossed over his chest and glaring in Angel’s direction. Angel tried to get Spike’s mind off what he’d like to do to Eve and back on remedying his current situation. 

“Should probably look for something to put these eggs in…” He looked pointedly at Spike. 

“Just crush ‘em.” 

“I’m not going to cause a war with the Tris’lik. I’ll just give them back their eggs and tell them to leave town.” 

“Yeah? And what about those bodies you were trying to save? They’re still going to need an incubator.” 

“So we give them a body.” 

“Just like that?” 

“Yep.” 

Spike frowned, wondering how much of the evil surrounding Wolfram & Hart was rubbing off on Angel. He opened his mouth to protest but Angel cut him off, and what he said had Spike smiling gleefully. 

“Right then. Guess I’ll round up a box or some such. Back in a few.” 

Angel watched Spike walk away and mentally breathed a sigh of relief. Major catastrophe avoided, or almost anyway. With any luck, Spike would be too concentrated on Eve getting her comeuppance with the Tris’lik _and_ with her bosses at her failing to do away with him than what had initially prompted Spike’s sudden visit to the bar. 

“Shirt up, mate,” Spike told him as he plopped a small box lined with newspaper on the table. 

Angel sighed and started undoing the buttons on his shirt, but the slight movement from the eggs nestled around his groin had him changing tactics and going to work on the button and zip of his pants instead. He’d just gotten them undone when a flash went off, and he looked up to see Spike struggling to suppress his laughter. 

“Spike!” Angel growled, even as he grabbed eggs from his person and gently placed them in the box. 

“What?” he grinned, unrepentant. “Didn’t think I was gonna let this go, did ya’? Sorry, Peaches, too good of an opportunity to pass up.” 

“Give me that camera.” 

“Nope.” 

“I _want_ that picture, Spike.” 

“What are you going to give me for it?” 

Angel paused in the midst of standing up. “What do you want?” 

The leer Spike gave him left Angel in no doubt of what he wanted. 

“It’s not like you haven’t fucked me before.” 

“One night,” Spike said. “One night, and I call the shots. No interruptions. One night, and I—” 

“Fine,” Angel snapped. “But then I want that picture back.” 

“I’ll just wait for you at the bar, let you finish up with the Tris’lik.” 

Spike moved off before Angel could respond, settling at the bar. He watched as Spike ordered a beer, flirting with the girl as she set the glass in front of him. 

He frowned and reminded himself to talk to Spike about his behavior. And if talking didn’t work, there were other ways to get his point across. 

An evil smile crossed his face, and that was what the Tris’lik saw when he walked up a moment later, his step hesitant upon spying Angel still alive, or rather, still undead, and not baby Tris’lik food. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Angel let himself into his suite two days later after a long day’s work at the office and stopped dead in his tracks at the changes made to the place. 

The shades were pulled to block out the imminent sunrise, plunging the room into darkness. Candles covered every imaginable surface, casting a soft glow to the room. 

Spike walked out of the kitchen holding two cups of blood. Angel couldn’t help the widening of his eyes at seeing that he was naked. Naked and half hard… and getting harder by the second. He swallowed and stared until a mug appeared beneath his nose, and Angel took it gratefully, downing the blood in a few short swallows. 

He heard Spike tsk in mock disapproval, but Angel didn’t care; he needed the blood rather desperately as whatever was in his body had shot straight to his groin. 

“Want another?” 

Spike’s question penetrated his lust-filled thoughts, and he nodded absently and held out the mug. His eyes were glued to Spike’s backside as he walked away and Angel made to follow, intent on bending him over the kitchen counter and slaking his lust. 

“Uh uh,” Spike laughed. “Go shower, then wait for me on the bed.” 

Angel thought that was the best idea he’d ever heard. Well, second to the whole bending Spike over the counter thing. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

“Hrd _rrrr_ …” Angel groaned, his face buried in the pillow. Groaned again when Spike complied and kneaded his shoulders so hard it bordered on painful. “Good… Right… _ahhh_ … there…” 

“You’re a pushy bottom. Shut up and let me work here.” 

Spike grabbed more oil, rubbed his hands together and started on Angel’s lower back. He was so relaxed when Spike finally finished and moved down to his ass cheeks that he barely flinched at the finger that brushed over his hole. 

Over, around, over, a slight tease of a finger sliding in. 

Angel lifted his hips to increase the penetration. “More…” 

Spike ignored him and continued to drive Angel crazy. Over, around, another brush across the opening… until the muscles he’d worked so painstakingly into relaxation became taut in anticipation. 

“Spike,” Angel whined when Spike appeared in no hurry to give Angel what he wanted. Though, Spike did take pity on him and stretched out on top of his back, giving him a feel of what was to come. 

One thrust. Two. 

“Want it?” Spike whispered in Angel’s ear. He teased the lobe with teeth and tongue. 

“Yes!” 

Spike sat back on his heels and urged Angel to all fours. He grabbed the lube and had Angel stretched before he could complain again, if you counted, “Enough already, just fuck me,” as an enticement rather than a complaint. 

He was inclined to take it as such, even if Angel did sound a bit bossy. 

But then, Spike _had_ been playing with Angel for the last hour and he was more than ready for his reward. Twin groans – or what could have been sighs – as Spike hobbled forward and finally pushed his way home. 

“Bloody hell, Angelus.” 

Angel felt so good, his body squeezing Spike’s cock just so. Something he’d never get tired of, no matter how many times he did this. 

“Move,” Angel griped, when Spike continued to lay draped over his back, pushing his hips back into Spike’s groin to get his point across. 

“Pushy bottom,” Spike reiterated. Bit Angel’s ear in retaliation. 

“Now.” 

Spike rolled his eyes at Angel’s growled command, but complied. 

Not like Angel would have liked or expected – hard and fast leaving Angel gasping for unneeded breath and clutching at the sheets, or perhaps the headboard – but a long, slow in and out motion. It came to Angel then what Spike was doing, the proverbial light bulb turned on.

Just like that, Angel melted. He rested his head against his arms and let Spike have his way. 

And when Spike finally reached around and fisted his cock with his languid movements, urging him to come, Angel was more than ready to follow along. 

Neither said anything in the aftermath, and Angel bit back a protest when Spike eventually shifted up and off him, settling quietly beside him. Angel rolled onto his side and drew Spike into his arms, and for once, Spike put up no protest. 

Which was kind of nice, because he didn’t particularly feel like dealing with a prickly Spike. 

Better to have this. This quiet, companionable silence. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Angel called the gang into his office late the next afternoon. He looked up from the papers on his desk as Wesley strolled in, his nose buried in a book. Gunn and Fred occupied the chairs in front of his desk; Spike was seated alone on the couch. He was just waiting on Lorne, and then he could tell them his news. 

Not the scheme hatched by Eve to get rid of him once and for all and how he’d gotten his revenge – he was still waiting for her replacement to arrive – but the part about him and Spike being together. 

Maybe then he’d no longer have to suffer the woebegone looks cast his way by Spike when he thought Angel wasn’t looking. To say nothing of the pranks Spike liked to pull to perpetuate the lie that they weren’t together. 

He was sure there was bound to be some backlash from his friends, but Angel hoped to assure them all by informing them that he was in no danger of becoming Angelus. The previous night had proven as much. 

Apparently the last time his soul had been returned, the spell that had been used had much more permanency than the one the Gypsies had performed. 

“I’m here,” Lorne announced theatrically as he sailed into the room. “What’s all the urgency, Angelcakes? I’ve got a bit of a crisis myself. J-Lo wants to do a sequel to ‘Gigli’ – I’m not sure what that’s all about given how it tanked at the box office. I’m thinking she’s possessed actually. Maybe we should think about sending in a team?” 

Angel’s brows drew together; he didn’t know what Lorne was talking about. 

“I think Angel’s finally going to tell us that he and Spike are an item,” Wesley said in answer to Lorne’s question. 

“Oh thank goodness,” Lorne replied, relieved. “Do you know how hard it is pretending not knowing? I was this close…” He held thumb and forefinger a hairsbreadth apart. “… to telling them that Spike’s acts weren’t fooling anyone. To say nothing of Angel’s looks. Sorry, Sweetums, you’re gonna have to work on your brood.” 

Angel’s jaw dropped at Wesley’s announcement; his mouth worked but nothing came out at Lorne’s reply. 

 _They knew?_  

“Right then,” Spike said, gaining his feet. “Now that that’s settled, we got anything that needs killing?” He looked at Angel, who was doing a good impersonation of a fish, then Fred and Gunn, who were hiding smiles behind their respective hands, and then Wesley. Seeing Wesley’s brief negative head shake before returning to his book, he walked over to Lorne.  “You mentioned something about a J-Lo?  Want some help with that?” 

Lorne patted Spike on the back and walked with him to the door, talking all the while. 

“See ya tonight, Peaches,” Spike called out over his shoulder, winked at Angel and disappeared. 

“Are we through here?” Wesley asked. 

“Uh, yeah, I’ve got this thing back in the lab,” Fred added, standing. 

“We adjourned then?” Gunn stood as well. Watched Angel nod. “Good, I’ll be in my office.” 

Everyone left and Angel shook his head in amazement. “That’s it?” he asked the empty room. “No, ‘Angel what are you thinking?’ no, ‘Spike? Really? You and Spike, huh?’” 

The intercom buzzer interrupted his lone tirade. 

“What, Harmony?” he snapped out, pressing down on the answer button. 

“Your five o’clock is here,” she replied cheerfully. 

“Fine. Send them in.” 

Pushing his friends’ lack of surprise at his renewed relationship with Spike from his mind, he stood and greeted the trio as they entered his office. 

“ _Mmmmm_ … _Angel_ …”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for nekid_spike April/Easter nekid numbers challenge, wherein I picked Angel, an egg, in a bar, and took it to the extreme.


End file.
